Marble Sanctuary, False Warmth
by pandapwnage
Summary: Everyone has different troubles that weigh on their mind- though for nations the issues are a bit more extreme and complex than those of simple humans. With the economical state that he and his people face, who does America confide in..?


Iiiiii own nothing = u = b

The story was inspired by THIS GORGEOUS PICTURE that is also not mine:

((img. photobucket .com /albums/v423/dreamers_wish/tumblr_lsgkdb3ZIS1r1biw6o1_500jpg))

The corner of his lips twitched into a small smile as he leaned back against the old pew. With a soft sigh, the smile faded while his foot propped against the wooden frame. Why did I come here..? He could only question himself, though the lad would come here at times he had woes and concerns flogging his mind. He didn't have any specific religious beliefs, though he knew his people full and well were persistent on having one, or so it seemed. Humans were utterly confusing to him- they finding comfort and having such strong faith in something that no one had been able to prove. Maybe that is just one reason why he envied them so much?

The question soon fled the nations mind, his hands moving from his pockets to rest between his legs. There was no other body in sight, no one to be near. It was just him, alone in the chapel. Looking around the stoned place, he couldn't help but wonder how one could find comfort in such a cold place. The gorgeously elaborate stained glass casting different hues to dance along the floor, giving a small bit of warmth.

"Ah- I see, now.." Alfred muttered softly to himself. Eventually, his shoulders had slouched. The young man was utterly defeated, to say the least- with his Congress making ridiculous decisions, his Government ignoring the pleas of his people, the rest of the world making a mockery of the citizens, and himself. The list could go on, but his already tattered heart was sinking further the more he thought of just how pathetic he felt he had become. Going from being one of the most omnipotent countries in the world, reduced to nothing more than a deplorable and inadequate place, with a decreasing education level, and failing economy. He was no longer the mighty being he had once been not too long ago.

Not long after his internal break-down, his usually bright blue orbs had dulled from the tears forming as they threatening for release. Hands clenched as he continued to stare at the glowing, colorful reflection, as if looking for the answer within the false warmth. Was this really how his people wanted to remain? Was there nothing that the other nations could do? No hands to be offered? He couldn't ask England-not after being so persistent in breaking free from him. China hated him, as did many others, so those were out. Canada..? No.. He couldn't bare to put that kind of trouble on his brother. There were so many question that plagued him, so many that broke the mans soul that much more. Though the one that killed his patriotic spirit the most was the one thing that he always believed he could always be-

"C-can I really not b-be their Hero...?" The cracked voice soon let out a small, stifled sob that echoed in the room. Gritting his teeth, his fuzzy gaze shot towards the crucified being on the cross as he moved to the center of the isle. "Is there nothing I can do?" Shakily, he took another step forward, the tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. His hands remained in fists as he continued to stare at the sunken face, as if he were waiting for an answer.

Several moments passed before a growl formed in the back of Alfreds throat. "**WHY?** WHY can I not be the one to change things? Why does it have to be them?" There was no reply. "They-They won't listen to them! The fuckers in power- **they don't care!**!" Shutting his eyes tightly, his face turned towards the ground as the cries turned into sobs. "I j-just.." He started, though cut himself off as he fell to his knees before the statues. "I j-just.. W-want to m-make thi-hings right!" There was still no reply. "For th-them..."

Alone, Alfred sat hunched over and grief ridden, his cries falling on no ones ears but himself. Alone, he faced his internal issues in the chapel where he had come in hopes of some form of refuge. And alone, Alfred remained in his tears. The light had lowered below the windows, no longer casting it's warmth, leaving the nation how he had arrived- alone.


End file.
